Death Fall
Egg shells litter the nests bottom
forlorn thoughts drift on the summer’s haze
the nest crushed beneath the wheel of the mower
still retained its circular form.
High in the small woods
I had created in the back yard
bird song could be heard.
The birds hidden
by the abundant foliage
chittered away.
Were they the newborn from this nest?
impossible to tell, one could hope.
So many broken nests,
so many lost children,
so much rampant neglect
and disregard
nature was a true leveler.
Reference: Chris Aechtner’s Verse Closer – line 1 eggshells
Example for the REFRENCE CONTEST
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